Nepenthe 2018
I joined the Mountaineers October 20th 2016. Even before that I had always believed magic was real, but the forum and its secrets gave those beliefs shape. Less than a month after I joined I had a strange dream, one that I largely credit for sending me down the Gossmere path. I never shared the dream, but I did share what became of it, Operation Nepenthe. This year, with all we have uncovered and discovered, I think it’s time I shared the whole story.
The Dream
It was autumn, that part of autumn where winter is braying on the winds and the golden leaves are frosted in white. I was in Central Park, but it wasn’t Central Park… There was something fundamentally different about it. The air tasted different, and the trees moved in slow rhythmic dances even when the winds were violently powerful. I watched as a group of strangers came into view, all wearing flowing clothing and bearing kind open smiles. I watched as a girl who could not have been much older than me placed a thick gold coin into the palm of a man who was holding a cardboard sign, I watched the exchange of kind words that was shared, before she was gone… off to follow the procession of what I now believe to be a Gossmerim tribe celebrating the festival of giving. I followed them along the path for awhile, but it was like I could never catch up. No matter how fast I was, they seemed always a yard or so ahead of me. Occasionally one would stop, to offer a blanket or a warm drink, pick up a piece of trash of set down a tray of milk for a feral cat. I watched in pure wonder, feeling my heart melt in marvel at these acts of random compassion. It was one that stuck out so clearly in my mind, a young man, somewhere between me and Augo in age, bending over this elderly woman. He wrapped a thick tan scarf around her and smiled. No words were said in the dream, just the sharing from one heart to another.
Obviously I chalked up the dream to being some flight of whimsy, but it did inspire me to start Operation Nepenthe. I remember when a fellow mountie asked me where I had found the name I couldn’t give them an answer. I just couldn’t place it. However, a few weeks ago me and Augo were exploring our guild hall; tending to the Hearth and exploring the plains. Among some rubble of what might have once been a small village, whose houses had been comprised of large birds nests tented with colorful ribbons, we found a scroll. It was a poem telling the tale of the ancient Gossmerim tribes celebrating Nepenthe, the festival of giving.